


One Benefit of Qrow's Curse

by DarthSuki



Category: RWBY
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 20:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16583885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: For the anonymous request: Qrow has a mild voyeurism kink when it comes to his s/o. He didn’t even realize it until one day, while in bird form, he managed to catch them masturbating from the tree he was perched in and from there it just kinda spiraled.





	One Benefit of Qrow's Curse

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a request on my RWBY writing blog. If you would like to submit a request or check out my other related work, [go check it out here!](https://rwbywritings.tumblr.com/)

It began as an accident, pure and simple. Qrow had figured it would be a good idea to do some scouting around where he and the others had set up camp, figured it would be smart to see if there were any Grimm or packs of Grimm to be worried about. He wanted some time to himself, to think, to muse over his thoughts and feel the wind beneath the wings of his avian form.

Sure, being a crow was an oddity, a relic of a magical past that the world had once reveled in, but it was a freedom in the same breath. The mobility, the flight, the heightened senses; hell, Grimm rarely bothered with him in that form so it was plenty useful–he truly appreciated the benefits that came with it.

That said, he felt it appropriate to scout about that night, waiting until the others had fallen asleep. he took to the treetops without issues, weaving between branches and tree trunks, a shadow in a dark night. 

A noise caught his attention. Qrow was quick to change course, following the noise and being careful of the thick branches of the upper treeline. He wasn’t very familiar with the forest–it wouldn’t do well to run himself into a tree, so the man favored safety than speed.

When he came upon the section of the forest he had heard the noise, Qrow fell upon a branch to sit and wait for it to happen again. Though it had taken him a minute to follow the sound, he doubted that the owner would have gone very far–and certainly not without making even more noise.

He tilted his head one way, then the other; the world was silent for a few moments, and Qrow felt the near-uncontrollable urge to shake out his wings and feathers. Another moment of silence, and then another; the man was nearly ready to call off the noise as worthless and head back to camp when he finally heard something.

A shift in the underbrush below. The noise was soft but he still managed to hear it, ever so slightly; it was at the base of the tree he sat perched upon. 

Qrow adjusted himself on the branch, hopping slightly until he could make out a figure leaning against the trunk of the tree. It was obviously not Grimm, instead humanoid and…

…and familiar?

Though his eyes in that feathered form weren’t the best in the dark, there was just enough moonlight to make out who was standing there, against the base of the tree.

* * *

You needed to let off a little steam. Just a little. Traveling with others was a blessing, it was always nice to have so many more pairs of eyes watching your blind spots, keeping away the fear that came from the dark corners of where your eyes couldn’t see; a single person could only be alert for so long after all.

The only issue in traveling with a group is that it afforded you next-to-no privacy in the slightest, especially since the majority of your party were students of the fallen Beacon Academy. Though bright-eyed and full of energy you only wished to have, they did not give you a chance to be alone for even a moment, not even when everyone settled down to sleep.

You wanted to blame Qrow, if only a little bit. Damnable man and his damnable voice, damnable smile–it’s a wonder he hasn’t tried to take you aside one night and ravish you himself. But he’s also a responsible man, all things considered, and is the only one that can scout the most land and keep the group safe at night.

So of course, that left you having to take your tension-relieving activities to yourself. It wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as you thought it might be, sneaking out of the makeshift camp after everyone had fallen asleep. If anything, honestly, the idea had quickly become a little exciting in itself: belly aflame with desire, to only be sated by your own hand, muffling the sounds of pleasure with the other.

It was at least a little hot, you can’t help but admit that much.

You’re not too far from camp when you decide you’re far enough. A minute of walking, far enough so that nobody would accidentally find you, but close enough that you weren’t in too much danger should a Grimm or other beast of the night come upon you.

The danger, at least what little existed, did at least simmer in the bottom of your stomach, fueling the already-present need seeping through you.

Back pressed against rough bark of one of a tree, it didn’t take you long to get into it. Pants were unzipped, pushed far enough down your legs so that it takes little effort to press a hand down between them.

The teasing touch feels better than you expect–perhaps from not being able to take care of yourself for so long since–so before you can stop it, a moan pours from your lips.

* * *

By the time Qrow realizes what’s going on, it’s already too late.

He heard you  _moan_. It was no mistaking that it was you down there, pressed back against a tree with your pants around your knees. He couldn’t see much detail, but he knew  _exactly_  what you were doing–the simple motion of your hand gave that much away, if you weren’t otherwise so bad at muffling the noises coming from your mouth.

He shifts uncomfortably on the branch, unsure what to do, further unsure of how to deal with the rush of thoughts going through him at that same moment.

Qrow doesn’t know to stay or go. He feels a pang of guilt, if only because he realizes how long it has been since the two of you were together, but he…

…he kind of likes watching you. There’s something distinctly exciting about it, watching you writhe, sob and moan against your own hand. There’s something quite lovely about knowing you couldn’t see him, didn’t even know he was there–so that meant you didn’t have a reason to feel nervous about taking the pleasure you wanted.

Moans, muffled but clear from Qrow’s proximity, continued to drip into the air from you. They were incomprehensible at first, but slowly morphed into a very clear word. A name. His name.

“Qrowwww,” he heard you whine, back arching and feet slipping a little over the wet grass beneath them. “F-Fuh-Fuck. Please.  _Please.”_

He watched as you continued to writhe, hand moving more fervently as he assumed you tried to find a level of arousal and fire that suited you. As he watched down upon the scene, Qrow wondered what you were thinking about, what precisely you were fantasizing as your fingers worked over sensitive nerves and skin.

The urge to shake out his wings and feathers comes back with a vengeance–is it some damn instinctual thing?–but Qrow manages to keep still enough. The last thing he needs is to give you a goddamn heart attack right before you orgasm. Right before he gets to  _watch_ you have an orgasm.

Qrow never knew that it was like to be aroused while transformed, but damn if he’s not pretty sure he’s feeling it right then. He feels like he needs to move, needs to hop around and just—fuck, he almost wants to see if he can catch you off-guard, maybe even sneak up behind you, press his hands to your hips and–

Fuck.

It’s just so  _hot_  to watch you like this.

You end up lingering for several minutes, your voice breaking out from behind one tightly-pressed hand over your lips when climax finally hits. Qrow can hear his name, over and over in beautiful little sobs as your hips thrust against your hand. He watches as you work through the last few waves of orgasm and then, after another minute, clean yourself up and start walking back to camp.

He remains on the branch for a few minutes even after that, his mind rushing with the realization of not only what he had just watched, but how much he liked watching it as well.


End file.
